WARNING Sharp objects not suitable for Winchesters
by Xdaisy chainX
Summary: On their way to a suspected black dog incident, the Winchester's stumble across another hunt in Avon, Minnesota. Just a routine salt and burn...right?
1. Chapter 1

So here we go, my second fic on fanfiction :D a little later than promised but better late than never. Some small references are made to my first fic, but you dont need to read that one to understand this one.

Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbox, im just playing in it for a while

* * *

The sun lazily moved across the sky on the crisp new morning, rays beating down on the highway heating the asphalt. The peace and quiet found on the road only in the early hours of the day was suddenly shattered by the growl of a sleek '67 Impala tearing up the track, seemingly in haste to get somewhere.

In truth, the car was only going at such a reckless speed because Dean Winchester was it's driver, to whom a deserted road was like an open invitation to see how fast his baby could go. The cars only other passenger looked over at Dean, smiling.

Sam shook his head suppressing a laugh at the goofy grin and sheer joy radiating from his brother, obvious signs he was ecstatic at being on the road again.

After spending six days in a pokey motel room, even Sam had to admit that he was relieved to finally be on the move. The brothers had been under strict doctors orders to stay put and rest after an 'unfortunate hiking accident'…a.k.a. a wendigo attack.

If it had been up to Dean, the Winchesters would have been on the road a day earlier after he had come across a possible gig using his brothers laptop. However, Sam had managed to coax one more days respite out of his brother by playing the guilt card and claiming that he was still a little sore, but was sure to be feeling better in another twenty-four hours.

It was a dirty trick but he had wanted to be sure his brothers ankle, which had been re-sprained during the wendigo hunt, was completely healed. Sam knew that if Dean had been left to his own devices, he was likely to over exert himself and would probably end up re-injuring it again.

In truth the pair of them could have used the extra days healing time anyway, both sustaining injuries from a razor sharp set of claws which had required stitches. And so Dean had relented and reigned in his horses making Sam less worried about the chance of either of their injury lists becoming longer as a result of restlesness.

However, the price to pay for his brothers leniency was ending up on the road at an ungodly hour the next morning. Not that Sam was particularly bothered, he wasn't a good sleeper anyway and often found himself up at weird hours of the AM, torn from sleep by another of his nightmares or visions.

"So what makes you so sure that this is a Black dog anyway, and not just an angry stray?" Sam asked opening his window and closing his eyes as the cool morning breeze hit his face.

"How many stray dogs have you seen with 'shining red eyes' Sammy" Dean said, unable to keep the joy from his voice. He was having a blast, his feeling of freedom having been restored and the promise of a hunt on the horizon.

Sam nodded his head in acceptance, eyes still closed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "True, red eyes would make it more likely to be a Black Dog I guess."

"That teamed with the fact it's seen only at night lurking around a graveyard makes me feel pretty damn certain about what we're facing here" Dean said moving his hand to turn up the volume of Blue Oyster Cult's Tattoo Vampire without taking his eyes off the road.

"So where we headed then, I really don't want to be stuck in the car travelling for days, we've been sitting still long enough" Sam said, his head unconsciously moving in time with the beat.

"Don't listen baby," Dean said stroking the wheel "Sammy here is too blinded by his ungratefulness to be able to fully appreciate how comfortable your leather interior actually is."

Sam only opened his eyes long enough to shoot a look of annoyance at his brother before shutting them again and facing the window. "Whenever your finished pillow talking to the car over there Dean, I wouldn't mind an answer to my question."

"Easy there Francis, wouldn't want you getting all that long, manly hair in a twist now would we," Dean said grinning at his brother's sigh "we're heading to Hampton, Iowa. I figured it was ideal being only two states over, we can do half the journey today and half tomorrow, stop over somewhere in Minnesota."

"Sounds good Dean" Sam said, leaning back into his seat with a contented sigh.

His brothers only response was to press the gas pedal to the floor sending the Impala shooting down the deserted highway.

* * *

Several hours and one driver change later, the Winchesters pulled into the parking lot of a motel in Avon, Minnesota. Dean hopped out of the passenger seat and stretched, wincing as the movement pulled on the stitches he had acquired as a result of the face off with the wendigo. He smiled as he realised he would be able to be rid of them as of the next morning. Sam would also be able to remove the ones from his chest leaving behind some interesting scars without doubt.

"Chicks dig scars" Dean mumbled to himself with a smile.

"What?" Sam asked as he got out from the car, also stretching his tired muscles.

"Oh nothing, just thinking out loud," Dean said heading towards the office of the motel "I'm starving, I'll book us in and then we can head over to the diner I saw on the way in."

"M'kay," Sam said, leaning against the car and looking around the lot in the afternoon light.

Dean headed to the desk and checked in the Cray brothers for the night before heading back over to the car. He elbowed Sam out of the way of the drivers door before sliding in behind the wheel. Sam frowned at him before walking around the car and getting in the other side.

"Dude you have issues."

"Don't like it Samantha, start walking" Dean said, laughter clinging to his words.

* * *

Half an hour later saw the hunters seated in one of the diners overly colourful booths waiting for the food. Dean tapped incessantly away on the plastic table with his fork, stopping only when Sam grabbed his wrist and shot him a death glare.

"So," he said forcing his voice to be even, his brother could be so _irritating _when he wanted to be "are we stocked up on consecrated iron for the dog?"

Dean tugged his wrist out of Sam's grasp, eyeing is brother evenly for a moment before resuming the tapping on the table. "Yep, we have plenty of iron rounds, and some salt. I read in dads journal that he wasn't one hundred percent sure that salt rounds would kill a Black Dog, but they can definitely hurt the suckers."

Sam bit the inside of his lip in an effort to stop himself from wrenching the fork from Dean's hand and throwing it across the diner. He almost jumped out of his chair and kissed the waitress when she walked towards the table bearing their food in her hands. Dean stopped his tapping, and stunned Sam by laying the offending fork on the table and diving into his burger and fries with his hands.

Taking a huge, messy bite, Dean looked up at Sam smiling before shouting "Hey Sammy, see food ahhh" and opening his mouth wide revealing a gross mixture of grey meat churned with bread bun.

Sam, just looked away from his brother, if he concentrated hard enough he could pretend he'd been born an only child.

They sat in silence for a while, Dean devouring his greasy meal with gusto, while Sam pushed his limp, browning salad around his plate. Dean looked up for a moment at the table next to their booth, pausing with a fry in his hand hovering near his mouth. His eyes narrowed. Slowly he continued to eat his meal, gaze never leaving whatever it was catching his attention.

Sam didn't notice Dean's actions, he was too busy staring out of the window into space, a glassy look in his eye. His attention was brought back into the room with a crash as Dean ungracefully lunged his torso out of their booth, snatching at a newspaper from the table next door.

Already absorbed in the front page article, Dean left it to Sam to apologise to the former occupier of the newspaper, who had barely set it down on the table and vacated his seat before the rough looking young man had swiped it. Barely acknowledging Sam's apology he walked towards the exit, nose in the air.

"Dean! What the hell was that all about" Sam demanded glaring at his brother.

"What? He was finished…the guy was taking so long reading the back page I was just about to take it out of his hands anyways," Dean replied, his eyes still scanning the article, "any rate, look what I just found" he said, flipping the newspaper around so Sam could see the headline.

"SECOND UNEXPLAINED TEEN DEATH IN AVON!"

* * *

There y'are, first chapter up and running. It's a little slow i know but scene setting and all that, update tomorrow. Chapter two is where the fun begins rubs hands

Tattoo Vampire belongs to Blue Oyster Cult-please dont sue me, I have no money anyway :)

drop me a line, all comments and critiques welcome

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two as promised, enjoy!

Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbox, I'm just playing in it for a while.

* * *

"Dude, just because it has unexplained in the title does not automatically make it our kinda gig" Sam said, dumping his bag at the foot of his bed before throwing himself onto the lumpy mattress.

"Hey, we've looked into less, and look at what the article says; Hannah Kelly is the second victim to be found dead on this property in as many weeks, the last being Abigail Small seven days ago. Both girls were found strung up by their wrists and both appear to have died of blood loss caused by multiple lacerations from a serrated knife edge. Authorities have released a statement suspecting this to be the work of a serial killer, although no evidence has been found of anyone else in the room on both occasions. Police have stopped their investigations on the property due to lack of evidence…blah blah blah" Dean looked up at Sam, lifting an eyebrow.

Sam raised his head from his pillow and looked at Dean "Ok, maybe this is our kinda gig," he shook his head sighing "only we could stumble across a hunt on the way to a hunt…so does it mention the address where this all happened?"

"Guess we're just that lucky huh" Dean said, folding up the newspaper and throwing it onto the bedside table before standing and grabbing his keys, "yeah it does actually, it's a property on the outskirts of town, there's a few old abandoned houses and not much else, probably nice and haunted."

Sam opened one eyelid "aw, your going to make me get up here aren't you" he said unknowingly turning on his puppy dog look.

"Well I figured that we could go take a look around, just scope the place out before it gets too late. Dude, stop looking at me like your going to cry, I'll go alone if you want. You can stay here and get your beauty sleep. I'm just gonna take a quick look around anyways, no need for you to come along and chance breaking any nails" Dean walked towards the door smiling to himself, there was no way Sam would let him go alone and knew it.

This was confirmed a second later when he heard his brother groan and roll off the bed muttering to himself, "Yeah like I'd let you go alone, you'll probably only wind up knocked on your ass and then I'd have to come rescue you anyways."

* * *

The Impala rolled up to the house ten minutes later. As they had gotten closer to the area it was in, there had been a steady decline in the number of people and homes and an increase in dilapidated buildings and overgrown shrubbery.

The house they were interested in looked like it could have been very beautiful in its hay day, but had fallen into a state of ruin and disrepair in an area of town which was no longer desirable. It was two storeys high, of medium size complete with broken porch and peeling paint. As with the rest of the few houses in the area, almost all of the windows were smashed or missing. These factors added up to a miserable looking shell of a building.

"You sure you want to do this now? We could always do some research and come back tomorrow" Sam said, taking in the sights with the fading light.

"Yeah Sammy, we're jut having a quick scout around for some clues to maybe help make the research load a little easier for you. Besides this thing smacks of angry spirit and they're usually not active till after dark, and its still like…" Dean paused and looked at his watch "eight o clock, we have plenty of time."

"Yeah I guess we could….hey what do you mean make the research load easier for _me_? What about you?" Sam huffed.

"Dude, this face is too pretty to be wasted on research, besides that's your speciality geek boy, you know that" Dean shot a grin at Sam before jumping out of the car and heading towards the boot.

Sam sat, staring at his brothers empty seat before letting out a snort of laughter, and shaking his head climbed out of the car, following Dean.

Dean pulled out two sawn off shotguns, cracking them open to check they were loaded, before handing one to Sam and shutting the door of the boot "ready?"

"Ready" Sam nodded walking towards the porch of the house.

Stepping carefully on the old, rotting floorboards in case they wouldn't hold their weight, the brothers walked up to the front door of the property. Sam eyed the discarded police tape which was loosely wrapped around one of the beams of the porch, the other end hanging to the ground. The hunters stepped through the hole where the door had once been before its hinges had rusted through.

The interior of the house was shady and gloomy in the darkening evening light. The hallway had two doors, one leading left, one right, and a staircase leading to the upper rooms. Signs of police activity could be seen clearly in the inch thick dust covering the floor. Footprints and scuff marks leading in all directions including upstairs. Hand and finger marks stood out on the top of the few pieces of furniture in the hallway.

"You head upstairs Sammy, I'll take down" Dean said heading left into what was once a lounge. Sam nodded before moving towards the stairs, automatically setting his footsteps to stealth. He climbed the staircase, taking note to avoid steps which looked too rotten to bear his weight.

Upstairs consisted of a corridor branching off into four rooms. Sam walked into the first room, EMF meter in hand. It was a large, probably the master bedroom in its day. It had the same inch thick dust covering the floor complete with footprint pattern marks as with the rest of the house.

Sam walked around, slowly waving the meter from side to side but picking up no readings. He kept a tight grip on his shotgun with his right hand. Even though the device was reading no activity, there was a pressing feel to the house which kept Sam alert for trouble. Dean was right, most activity happened at night but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

He opened up the drawers of the chest, one of the only substantial pieces of furniture in the room, and quickly scanned through the papers left in there. Seeing nothing of interest he left the room, moving into the next. This room was pretty much like the last except smaller. Sam scanned with the same result before moving into the third area, seeing nothing of interest.

In the third room there was a bedside table and a desk. Again, the EMF didn't pick anything up. There were papers scattered about the floor and small objects and debris littering the surfaces. Sam moved further into the room with the intent of checking out the desk for any significant information.

As he stepped beyond the boundary of the door it suddenly swung shut with a loud bang and the EMF meter peaked in his hand, lights flashing. He spun quickly on his heel but only managed to let out a small sound of surprise before he was tossed across the room by an invisible hand.

Landing ungracefully with a loud thud on the floor, he winced as he made contact with the ground. He took a moment to get his breath back, and when he opened his eyes he gasped at the sight. All of the debris and paper which had been scattered around the room was now floating in the air as if caught in a tornado.

Eyes wide he brought his gun up slowly and let off a shot into the middle of the cyclone of objects. This apparently was a mistake as they scattered, hanging in midair for a second before some of the larger pieces broke off and headed…straight towards Sam.

He dived out of the way as a particularly lethal looking shard of broken mirror shot towards his face. It thudded in the wall exactly where his head had been seconds beforehand.

Sam yelped in pain as larger groups of the debris started flying towards him, impossible to dodge. Pieces of glass, rocks and wood hit him with force enough to cut. Blood from a gash on his forehead pooled in his eyes temporarily blinding him.

Wiping his face hurriedly, he crouched low attempting to make himself a smaller target whilst trying to clear his vision. Finally when he succeeded he opened his eyes…and saw a particularly large lump of wood from a ceiling beam heading towards his head.

He had time to fit together one last conscious thought "_where the heck is Dean_" before his world went black in a flash of blinding pain.

* * *

Chapter three tomorrow,

all comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX

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	3. Chapter 3

Thankyou to everyone who is taking the time to read and review :) chapter three is the return of Dean!

Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbokx, I'm just playing playing in it for a while.

* * *

After walking into the lounge Dean had unknowingly mimicked his brothers moves, bringing out his EMF meter and sweeping the area. Much like the upstairs, the lower floor rooms were practically empty of furniture but full of scattered debris. In places near the walls weeds were even growing, emphasising the buildings disuse.

Frowning in concentration Dean scanned the room before moving through the doorway into what had once been a dining area, recognisable only because of the broken table propped against the wall.

All of the rooms were the same dull grey colour due to a combination of paint fading and grime caking every surface. Still waving the EMF meter, Dean progressed through the room quickly, seeing nothing of interest amongst the waste. He entered the kitchen. Copious amounts of rubble were strewn across the floor owing to the wall tiles crumbling over time.

He was about to leave the room, growing agitated at the lack of finding anything useful to help with their investigation, when he noticed a trapdoor in the floor. He remembered reading that the victims had been found strung up in the basement, and judging by the amount of activity readable in the dust surrounding the area, he had just found the entrance.

As he closed in on the trapdoor, the needle of the EMF reader twitched bringing him to a standstill. He flicked his eyes left and right, tightening his grip on his shotgun. Seeing nothing he moved closer. Standing next to the entrance to the basement, the meter went crazy, picking up on a seemingly high amount of activity.

Dean flicked the off switch and stashed the reader in his pocket, laying his shotgun on the floor before crouching down and grabbing the handle of the trapdoor with both hands. Adjusting his grip, he stood up grunting with the effort of opening the heavy wooden door.

He felt a whoosh of freezing air coming from the pitch black opening before the door was torn from his hands and he was launched across the room. He gave a yell of surprise before his head connected with the tiled wall and he slid to the floor stunned.

As if in the distance he heard the slam of a door and a muffled yelp of surprise followed by a thud. It took him only a second to realise it had come from his brother.

"M'comin' Sammy" he slurred before slowly rolling onto his front and drunkenly climbing to his knees. He blinked widely trying to clear the blackness clouding the edges of his vision.

"_C'mon Winchester, stop being a baby, Sam needs you, you can pass out later_" he thought to himself, trying to stand on legs which seemed to be made of jelly.

He suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline which cleared his head of the cobwebs when he heard the sound of a gunshot. Staggering to his feet, he leant against the wall for a second before taking off towards the stairs at a wobbly run, feeling blood dribbling down the back of his head tickling his neck.

"_No time to bleed now_" he thought "_gotta get to Sammy._"

In his haste to reach his brother he realised he had left his shotgun in the kitchen. He staggered on through the dining room regardless, no time to retrieve it…and no energy to do so anyway.

Suddenly from behind him came a grating noise. Dean spun quickly, instantly wishing he hadn't as he felt his lunch threaten to make a reappearance.

An invisible hand had picked up a chunk of the broken table and thrown it across the room…straight towards Dean. The hunters eyes widened and he unsuccessfully tried to dive out of its path.

The wood connected with a crack into Dean's ribs and he hit the floor solidly, his breath ripped from his body. He lay panting for a few seconds on his back before rolling over and once again clambering to his hands and knees. The sharp pains lancing through his side with each breath confirmed that at least one of his ribs was broken, possibly more.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to stand upright without passing out, Dean crawled as quickly as he could push his battered body towards the stairs, one thought on his mind.

"_Gotta save Sammy._"

Dean held onto the words, repeating them over and over like a mantra, focusing on the them instead of the pain. He reached the stairs finally and let out and involuntary whimper as they seemed to go on forever. The spirit appeared to have become bored with the hunter as all was quiet, spurring his actions as he thought about how it could have moved its attentions onto Sam.

Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed the banister holding onto it like it was a lifeline, and staggered up the steps. His momentum was halted suddenly when, with a loud crack, his foot went through one of the decaying stairs.

"Sonuvabitch!" he exclaimed before pulling his leg up through the rotten wood and continuing on with his quest.

He would have punched the air in victory when he finally reached the top step had his ribs not been burning in protest. He staggered towards the only door which was closed on the hallway figuring it to be the most likely room for his brother to be in.

Dean leant on the wall opposite the entrance, collecting himself before letting out a yell and kicking out, smashing through the decaying wood. The last of his energy spent he fell to his knees noticing Sam's body huddled in the corner of the room, numerous bleeding cuts littering any exposed skin.

"Sammy!" he yelled crawling towards his brother. Shaking the younger Winchesters shoulder he tried rousing him.

"Sammy, c'mon dude, wake up."

Sam's eyelids fluttered, and he let out a low groan before fully opening them. Blinking, he looked at his brother, gasping at the sight.

Dean was on his knees, eyes wide, staring without really looking. He was deathly pale, lines of pain etched in his face and a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He was covered in dust, tracks of skin showing through where the sweat had rolled down his face. Although his hand was braced on Sam's shoulder he was still swaying drunkenly, looking as if he would topple at any minute. His shoulders visibly slumped when he realised finally that Sam was awake, his frown letting up slightly.

"Y'... k dude?" he mumbled his eyes glazing over.

"Oh my god Dean, what happened?" Sam said, finally finding his voice. He climbed onto his knees and grasped his brothers shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

"Are...you…k…Sammy" Dean slurred again blinking heavily, his head lolling.

"Yeah dude, I'm fine" Sam said exasperated that his brother was once again unperturbed by his own injuries, intent only on finding out the state of the younger Winchester.

"Good." Seemingly using the last of his energy forming that one word, Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped into his brothers waiting arms.

* * *

All comments and critiques welcome!

chapter four tomorrow

XsarahX

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	4. Chapter 4

Thankyou to everyone who has taken the time to review, and special thanks to my anonymous reviewers because i cant reply to yours from the site. Onto chapter four!

Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbox, i'm just playing in it for a while.

* * *

Sam gripped his brother against his chest with one hand grasping for his shotgun with the other, Deans head lolling on his shoulder. Finally enclosing his fingers around the cold metal, he shifted his hold on Dean, preparing to stand.

His head pounded with a screaming headache reminding Sam painfully that he himself was not functioning at one hundred percent. With massive effort he finally stood, dragging his brother up with him. His eyes scanned the room, flicking back and forth not trusting the calm which had seemingly descended on the house.

He bent low allowing his brothers prone form to fall over his left shoulder before standing again. Grunting under the dead weight before taking a shaky step forward, he gripped the gun tightly in his right hand. Pausing for a moment, he listening out for the slightest noise, senses on high alert. Hearing nothing Sam took off at a trot, each step jolting his aching head. Gritting his teeth he reached the stairs, and panting, started down.

About halfway along the staircase his brother let out a low groan, stirring on Sam's shoulder.

"Hang on dude, I'll have us out of here in just a sec" he said continuing down.

"…ugh..ribsss" Dean groaned halting Sam in his tracks.

"You hurt your ribs too, God Dean," Sam said shaking his head "think you can walk to the car buddy?" he asked not wanting to hurt his brother by carrying him, anymore than he already was.

"Mhhm hhmm" Dean grunted back.

Sam carried on to the bottom of the stairs before slowly lowering Dean to his feet. Immediately his brother began slipping to the floor.

"Whoa dude," Sam said, slipping his arm under Dean's, "I got you."

Heavily leaning on his brother, Dean took a few shaky steps forwards, eyes slightly clearer and glinting with determination. Sam checked the area surrounding them periodically, leaving his brother to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

Both hunters stopped still when a loud bang from upstairs reverberated around the walls.

"C'mon Dean, time to hustle" Sam said, tightening his grip around his brothers back before upping the pace. They both had seen enough action for one night.

Sam ran, all but dragging his brother down the porch steps towards the Impala. Both were gasping when they finally reached the car, exhausted.

Sam propped Dean up against the car before opening the passenger door. His brother frowned at him, panting too much to form words, but trying anyways.

"Give…me…the…"

"Dude…there's no way your driving, get in the car" Sam said pushing his pig headed brother towards the passenger door.

Dean grunted as he flopped into his seat, leaning his head back with his eyes closed. Feeling Sam slip into the seat next to him, he opened one eye to look at him before smacking his impudent brother upside the head.

"…my freakin' car."

* * *

Sam sighed in relief when he finally saw the motel lights, getting back to their temporary home in double quick time. He set the Impala to park before jumping out and trotting around to help Dean as quick as his aching muscles would allow. Knowing his brother, Sam reached in to help before Dean could even think about protesting. The older Winchester had been steadily becoming more lucid the closer they got to the motel, and had bitched the whole way back about little brothers not knowing their place in the world.

"I'm good Sam" he said, flapping away at the hand his brother was offering. He proceeded to get out of the car unaided…and would have face planted into the concrete had Sam not caught him just in time.

"Dude you know, in my mind, the whole rescuing the Samantha in distress played out a lot differently," Dean said, finally giving in and leaning on his brother as they walked towards the motel room.

"Well Dean, you know what they say, it's the thought that counts" Sam said, barely able to keep the snigger out of his voice. In truth he was relieved that his brother was up to cracking jokes, for a moment back in the house when he woke up and saw the glassy, confused look in Deans eye, he had been a lot more scared then he let on.

"How about we get you settled and patched up huh Dean" Sam said, opening the door.

"How about you stop talking to me like I'm five and make me some coffee. I would kill right now for a cup of caffeine". Dean gasped as Sam lowered him onto the bed, inadvertently knocking his ribs.

"Sorry dude, what happened to you anyway?" Sam said going to the bathroom and returning with a bowl of hot water and a towel.

"I opened up one Pandora's Box of a bitchin' basement and something decided to give me a flying lesson before throwing a frikken table at me" Dean replied, shrugging off his jacket. He bent to take off his boots, groaning as pain shot through his side.

"Did I mention that the table went 'crack' when it hit?" He said looking up at Sam before shooting him a wan grin.

"Hold your arms up so I can take off your shirt, and I'll check your ribs and wrap them" Sam said moving towards his brother.

"Dude! I told you to stop treating me like I was five already, I can undress on my own" Dean said before moving to take off his top. As soon as he began pulling the t-shirt upwards he gasped and let go of it like it was on fire. Mumbling and muttering he shot his brother a death glare before lifting his arms skyward.

Sam suppressed a laugh at his brothers ramblings before removing Deans shirt. Any laughter died on his lips at the sight of his brothers chest. His whole right side was one big bruise and Sam winced in sympathy.

"Whoa Dean" he said before beginning to tape his brothers ribs. Sam contemplated removing the stitches from his brothers shoulder, the remnants of the wendigo attack, as well before deciding it would be easier to do the next morning when the two of them were more rested.

"Remind me, next time I get a dinner invitation from a spirit to just say no" Dean said, using his usual tactic of humour to distract from the pain. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sam had finished, his ribs already feeling a lot better.

"Ok, now let me patch you up" Dean said moving to stand up so he could tend his brothers wounds. He realised he had moved too quickly when the world took nasty tilt and he thudded back onto the bed.

"Dean! Would you stop being stubborn and sit still I need to check the back of your head," exasperated, Sam sat next to his brother setting the bowl of water on the table near the bed "now turn round so I can look at it."

"Its fine," Dean said waving off his brothers attempts at seeing to his wound "you look like crap Sammy, let me patch you up so you will feel up to the long day of research you have planned for tomorrow."

Sam sat for a moment contemplating his brother. He could see from his too pale complexion and the dark circle under his eyes that he didn't feel half as good as he was letting on, but Sam knew that his brother wouldn't rest easy until he had seen to his own wounds.

"Fine, if I clean myself up, will you let me have a look at your thick skull?" Sam asked sighing in defeat.

"Yeah" Dean said, sitting with his back to against the wall, ready to help if Sam needed it.

Sam's wounds were pretty superficial, cuts and bruises which, while uncomfortable, were hardly life threatening. He took two pain killers for his headache, throwing the packet over to Dean who shook out three, swallowing them dry. Sam then concentrated on the gash on his forehead. After cleaning it he realised it was just a flesh wound, albeit a deep one, which wouldn't require stitching.

He spent the next few minutes removing the stitches from his chest , touching his new wendigo styled scars for a moment before pulling on a clean t-shirt.

Cleaned and feeling slightly better, Sam left the bathroom, intent on checking out his brother. He smiled to himself at the sight that greeted him. His ever vigilant brother had fallen asleep, back still against the wall, chin on his chest. The younger Winchester shuffled towards the bed, laying a hand on Deans shoulder. Shaking him gently.

"Dean, dude c'mon, let me take a look at your head and you can sleep."

His brothers head gave an involuntary jerk and he looked around the room with wild eyes for a few seconds before seeming to remember where he was.

"M'kay" He said leaning forward so his brother would be able manoeuvre around him easier. Sam relaxed slightly when he finally saw the wound. It just needed cleaning, not being deep enough to require stitches.

Finishing up, he eased Dean into a lying position, his brother being half asleep and still covered in dust, before pulling off his boots and covering him with one of the rooms spare blankets.

"Night Dean" he said, turning off the light before getting into his own bed, sighing contentedly as his tired muscles finally relaxed.

"Night Sammy," came his brothers whispered response.

* * *

Next update tomorrow

All comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX

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	5. Chapter 5

Big thanks to everyone who is sticking with this fic, and cookies and balloons to all my reviewers

Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbox, I'm just playing here for a while.

* * *

The next day Sam awoke, surprised to find it was ten o' clock, he never usually slept that late. Looking over at his brother, he smiled at how young he appeared when asleep. He moved his head slowly, checking for any remenants of his headache. Though slightly painful, it was nowhere near the throbbing ache of the previous evening, and he popped two painkillers to prevent it from getting any worse. He shook two out and left them on the bedside table with a glass of water for Dean when he woke.

Stretching slowly, Sam decided he would go on the breakfast round and leave his brother to sleep a little while longer. Dressing quietly but quickly he snagged the keys from Deans bedside table and left the motel room, locking the door behind him.

He returned a little while later, finding Dean sitting on the edge of his bed, hair tousled, rubbing his eyes. He laughed out loud at the look of glee which crossed Deans face upon smelling the coffee he had brought with him.

"Coffee and doughnuts, breakfast of champions" Sam said, handing Dean a cup and before tossing the to-go bag at his head.

Dean took a sip, eyes closed "ahhh, heaven in a styrofoam cup Sammy" he said, earning a chuckle from his brother.

"So I was thinking we crash the library today, try and find out who it was that didn't take kindly to us being in the house last night" he said, shaking his head in amusement when Dean pulled a doughnut out of the bag, devouring half of it in one bite.

"Awh, but Sammy…what's the point in having a geek boy sidekick if I have to help with the research" Dean asked before tossing the other half of the doughnut into his mouth.

"You help and we can do it in half the time, plus if we crack this open today, we might be able to salt and burn tonight and have this thing over and done with."

Dean sighed and looked down at himself as if noticing for the first time that he was still covered in the dust and gime he had collected the night before.

"Guess I better go have a shower then Sammy boy" he said before gulping the last of his coffee.

"Let me take a look at your shoulder after and I'll take out your stitches" Sam said.

"Wow this morning just keeps getting better and better" Dean muttered moving stiffly towards the bathroom.

* * *

Having arrived at the library about an hour later, the Winchesters had researched separately well into the afternoon hours. Sam searched for his brother so he could relay his findings.

"So, I'v been looking through the old newspaper rolls for the town, and I found something interesting" Sam whispered to Dean, who was looking thoroughly un-amused sitting at a table surrounded by books.

"Care to share with the class there Francis or do I have to guess?" he grouched when Sam paused.

"Jeeze Dean, are you always this pleasant or am I getting special treatment today," Sam said, frowning at his brother.

"Do I have to remind you how lucky you are to even have my company right now bro? Now spill with the info already" Dean said with a grin, sometimes his brother was just too easy.

"Well," Sam said, reabsorbed in his findings "the two recent deaths aren't isolated cases. There's a pattern, three deaths every ten years since 1987, the first victim is always killed on the same date Abigail Small was murdered with the next two deaths in the following two weeks. All in the same house. There's been eight victims so far and if we don't hustle on this case it will be nine by next week."

"Obviously the cops in this town suck for them not to have made that connection themselves" Dean said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Well, ten years between the deaths, I guess no one even thought to look at past records" Sam said

"Well, great work Sammy," Dean said stretching his shoulders before standing "next question is who is killing these girls and why? Now I'm just about ready to explode with boredom here, so how about I go and talk to Abigail's family, see if she was acting weirdly at all before her death, whilst you try and find some more answers?."

"Yeah I guess," Sam said nodding, he knew his brother would be of little use anyways with the research now he was bored, honestly he was surprised that he had managed to last this long.

"Ok, you go do that, come pick me up later when you've spoken to them. And Dean, remember to be patient, it hasn't been that long since the murder happened."

"Pfft, what you talking about, I am the epitome of patience" Dean said smiling before turning on his heel.

"_Epitome_" Sam thought to himself, wondering if his brother even knew what the word meant. He chuckled quietly to himself as his brother all but ran from the building.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sam had to stop himself from whooping loudly when he finally came across the connection which linked the deaths together. Making copies of the information, he gathered all of the papers before leaving the library and pacing back and forth outside. He couldn't wait to tell Dean about what he had found out.

Finally a little while later he heard the low rumble of the Impala as it pulled up along side him. He all but bounded into his seat, bursting to tell his brother about his findings.

"Whoa, ok skippy, I'm assuming you found something interesting seeing as how your acting like a puppy who just found a bone here" Dean said, amusement evident in his voice.

"I know who our resident ghosty is!" Sam said, ignoring his brothers jibe.

"Well spill college boy, I'm all ears."

"It's a guy named Kurt Bradley."

"Kurt Bradley…so why him Sammy?" Dean asked firing the engine and roaring away from the library towards the diner. He decided he was hungry and needed refuelling.

"He was sent to jail in 1977 for the murder of Katy Jamison, a local who was twenty two at the time of her disappearance."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean at the time of her disappearance?" Dean asked frowning in confusion.

"Well that's where it gets interesting, Katy Jamison went missing in 1967, ten years previous to the year Bradley got convicted for her murder." Sam said, pausing a moment to see if Dean came to the same realisation as he had earlier.

"Wait, ten years, didn't you say there was a ten year gap between the deaths of the victims?" Dean asked

"Bingo, I think Bradley's spirit is using the same ten year gap pattern because that was how long it was between the actual murder and when he got convicted. See, he was a bit of a nut job, he killed Katy and became a total recluse for ten years. Didn't leave his house unless he absolutely had to, used to talk to himself, that kind of thing. I think the guilt drove him mad. In any case, he went to the police ten years later and confessed. He claimed he killed her using a kitchen knife" Sam said.

"And I'll bet anything that it was a serrated blade like that which was used on the other victims" Dean said, thinking out loud.

"Exactly, he told the police everything, how he killed her slowly, cutting just enough to make her bleed. Police reports say she most likely died of blood loss coupled with starvation although they were only going on his word because they never found her body. Bradley claimed it took her three weeks to die."

Sam paused a moment, both brothers frowning at the thought of what Katy Jamison must have suffered at the hands of the psychopathic man. After a moments silence, he cleared his throat continuing his explanation "I think that's where the three week murder time period originates from, it starts every ten years on the anniversary of Katy's disappearance."

"Wow…well Sam, I think you need to pat yourself on the back for this one, so what happened to Bradley?"

"He was sent to jail, life sentence with no chance of parole. I think he scared people with the way he acted in court, I found an account of the trial which said he was nervous and kept babbling to himself until he started describing the way he killed Katy. Then he became suddenly lucid, cold and unremorseful…even had a little smile during his explanation." Sam said.

"Heh, sounds like a real pleasant guy" Dean said looking at his brother and quirking an eyebrow "so when did he croak?."

"The first day of his sentence" Sam said shaking his head "suicide…hung himself in his cell."

"Jeeze, why go through all that and then hang yourself?"

"Because…he was crazy" Sam said shrugging his shoulders.

" Ok, so now we know who it is and what he did, if you can tell me where this guys buried, I'll buy you a cookie" Dean said with a smile.

"Better make it chocolate chip," Sam said grinning "he was buried in the local cemetery, state funeral, barely more than a wooden box."

"Awesome, we can do this tonight when it gets dark. I want to swing by the house too and get the shotgun I left behind, It should be nice and quiet once we send Bradley packing," Dean said getting out of the car after stopping in the diner car park "oh, and since I'm buying the cookies you can pay for dinner."

Sam watched his brothers retreating back, frowning when he heard him let out a bark of laughter as he entered the diner. Muttering to himself he followed Dean through the door.

* * *

Not the most exciting of chapters I'll grant you, had to get the explanation for the activity in there somewere lol

I hope it made sense, it's my most rewritten chapter :s

All comments and critiques welcome, update tomorrow!

XsarahX

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	6. Chapter 6

As ever, thanks to everyone who is taking the time to review :)

Disclaimer: Same as always, nothing is mine, everything's Kripke's

* * *

Dean pulled his coat closer around himself, it was late and the night was cool. Trudging through the quiet cemetery he threw a look over his shoulder making sure his brother was behind him. Adrenaline ran through his body as he thought about what they were about to do. Spirits usually didn't take kindly to being banished with a salt and burn, and this spirit was a strong sonuvabitch. That much they knew from their encounter at the house. Dean was going to make damn sure that it didn't get the drop on them again this time.

"So anyways," Sam said quickening his pace till he was beside his brother, "what did Abigail's family say?".

"I spoke to her mother, she invited me in but we had to talk quickly. Her husband was due home from work and apparently he was sick of dealing with cops".

"Aha! Scared of a little old man huh Dean, must be getting rusty in your old age" Sam said with a laugh.

"Did I mention this little old man had a pump action rifle, was six foot tall and built like a quarterback?" Dean said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Ah".

"Exactly, so anyways, I asked her if Abigail had been acting strange at all preceding the murder. Apparently she had lapses in her memory and was sleepwalking a lot when she had never done so before in her life. She would wake up in places miles away from home and have no idea how she got there."

"Bradley's spirit must have been guiding her towards the house so he could kill her," Sam said frowning "then what happened?"

"Papa Small burst in through the door and gave me thirty seconds to leave before he pumped me full of lead" Dean said smiling.

"What did you do?"

"I hightailed it out of there, don't need to tell me twice when your waving a gun in my face."

Sam laughed along with his brother before coming to a stop having read the name on the tombstone they had arrived at.

Kurt Bradley was buried at the back of the cemetery, as alone in death as he had been in life. Apparently no one wanted to be lain to rest near a murderer and so his grave stood, solitary and unkempt.

"Ok, I'll start and you keep look out Sam" Dean said, knowing the spirit was more likely to show up the closer they got to the body. By digging first, he automatically put himself in the danger position when it was Sam's turn to dig, and that was fine by him. If anyone was getting hurt tonight it wasn't going to be his brother.

Two hours and one position swap later, Sam finally felt the thwack of the shovel against wood. He had insisted on doing more of the digging than usual, mindful of Dean's injured ribs.

"Found it" he called up to his brother, who turned and smiled encouragingly before turning back to his watchdog position, shoulders square to the ground, gun in hand.

Sam leant back stretching his aching muscles before lifting the shovel high and bringing it down hard, splintering the old wood. He automatically ducked, eyes scanning the area around the gravesite for any signs of an angry spirit.

"Er…Dean?"

"I know…where the hells casper? There ain't no way he's going quietly with the fight he put up at the house". Dean said, turning to pull his brother from the hole.

"Maybe he just wants to go" Sam said shrugging before turning and aiming copious amounts of salt and gasoline over the skeletal remains at the bottom of the pit.

"Well Sammy, chalk this one up as an easy victory" Dean said, flicking open a zippo before tossing it into the hole.

After filling the hole, the Winchesters returned to the Impala, covered in grave dirt and smelling of smoke.

"To the house trusty sidekick geek boy!" Dean said, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the cemetery.

* * *

A little while later they pulled outside the abandoned property once again. It looked even gloomier and a whole lot spookier in the dark of the night.

"Right," Dean said, reaching behind him into the duffel on the backseat, pulling out a torch "I'll be back in a sec, just have to run into the kitchen that's where I remember leaving the gun."

"Dean wait a minute…" Sam said frowning "something doesn't feel right, I mean, why didn't Kurt's spirit show? He cant have been too happy about us evicting him from the house."

"Sammy, you worry too much, this guy is gone, ain't no way he's coming back from wherever we sent him" Dean said.

"Well I'd feel better if I came with you is all" Sam said reaching behind the seat himself to pull out their remaining shotgun.

"Ok Sam, whatever, I'm only gonna be five minutes tops" Dean said smiling at his brother before they both stepped out of the car.

Walking through the open doorway, both brothers automatically went into hunter once more, even though they believed the house to be quiet. Despite all Dean's ragging on Sam about his spidey senses, he trusted his brother with his life, so if he didn't feel like something was right, something wasn't right.

They passed through the dark rooms silently, the beam from Deans torch being their only guide. Sam glanced at the floor of the dining room, his brothers plight from the last time he was there was easy to read in the churned up dust. He shook off the memory of Deans glassy, confused eyes before following his brother into the kitchen.

"Here we go" Dean said, stooping to the floor to retrieve the shotgun. He stood, ready to depart from the house when the trapdoor caught his eye again. It had shut on itself when it had been torn from his hands by the spirit.

"How about we have a looksee in the basement Sam?" he asked his brother, unconsciously whispering in the oppressive darkness.

"Dude, no, why? You have the gun, lets go already" Sam said, amused and exasperated by his brothers curious nature.

"Oh c'mon Sam, where's your sense of adventure? I just want to have a look around, and we got the bad guy already what the worst that could happen?" Dean said, already wrapping his hands around the handle and preparing to open the heavy door.

"I _cannot _believe you just said that Dean, you know Winchesters aren't allowed to say that, its like the number one rule or something" Sam said with a grin, moving next to his brother to help with the door. He knew Dean was set to go down the basement with or without him and didn't want to leave him alone.

"_If you cant beat them, join them_" he thought to himself before bracing his legs and counting out loud to three with his brother.

On three, they both heaved the door upwards. Dean was secretly glad his brother had moved to help him, the friggin' door was heavy, and his battered ribs were still sore.

The heavy wooden flap slammed to the floor, revealing a set of stairs leading into an inky back opening. Dean shone the beam of light into the basement before shooting Sam a grin and starting down the stairs. Sam frowned before following his brother, his feeling of unease was growing.

He mentally shook himself "_we got Bradley already, nothings going to happen._"

Dean reached the bottoms of the stairs and swung the light from his flashlight around the room, almost hungrily taking in the details. No windows meant the basement was impenetrably dark. The exposed brickwork of the walls was covered in clinging spider webs and the dirt floor was disturbed from the feet of the police who had been investigating the murders. It was of medium size and basically empty aside from a few boxes containing broken bits and pieces of long forgotten possessions mixed with dirt.

Sam watched as his brothers beam of light paused on one of the walls highlighting the place where all of the victims probably had been strung up. A rusty looking metal hook stuck out from the cement, a meter or so to the left of one of the rooms wooden support beams, curving upward and ending in a vicious looking spike almost like a small meat hook.

The brothers walked towards it abreast of one another to inspect it closer. There were marks in the rust which told of thick rope being futilely rubbed back and forth in failed attempts at freedom.

Sam studied the hook, caught up in thinking about how the poor victims must have struggled against captivity, almost placing himself in their place. Dean, quickly bored of looking at the spike, turned with the intention of checking out the discarded, rotten boxes piled about the room. He looked down, the beam of the torch reflecting off the exposed edge of something shiny which was embedded in the muddy ground.

Bending down for a closer look, he pulled a small knife from its hiding place in his boot and began digging around the object, unearthing it. Using his fingers, he dislodged the dirt revealing a small silver bracelet. He stood with the intention of showing his brother who was seemingly enthralled by the metal hook, when he detected movement at the corner of his eye.

"Sam lookout!" Dean shouted, startling his brother from his trance like state. Sam whirled in time to see Dean launching himself towards him, intent on knocking him out of the path of danger.

Sam was shoved unceremoniously towards a pile of boxes, landing in an ungraceful heap. He looked quickly towards his brother who was now standing where he had been only moments before. It felt like it had happened in slow motion, although in reality there had been barely a second between the warning and Deans intervention.

Sam finally clocked the reason for his brothers actions. Something shot through the air towards the older Winchester before hitting into him with enough force to spin him round.

With a yelp of pain his brother lost his footing as he span, falling and hitting the ground before laying still. Sam's eyes travelled from his brothers prone body to the wooden support beam where the object was embedded. A serrated blade wobbled with the force of its entry into the wood, before seeming to fade and then vanishing from sight altogether.

It wasn't the fact that the knife disappeared which sent chills running down the young hunters spine…it was the sight of his brothers blood which had been dribbling down the blade.

* * *

-Evil cackle- Bet you all thought we were done and dusted when Kurt was roasted hmm :D

Update tomorrow!

All comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX

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	7. Chapter 7

Uber thanks to all my reviewers :D

Disclaimer: I still own nothing -sigh-

* * *

Sam sat for a moment, startled into action when Dean let out a groan before rolling onto his side one hand around his ribs, the other clutching his arm.

"Dean, are you ok man?" Sam said, scrambling to his feet and retrieving the flashlight before falling to his knees beside his brother.

"Yeah, just a scratch," Dean replied through gritted teeth, in obvious pain "we should get out of here before…"

Dean stopped talking as both brothers attentions were drawn to one of the piles of boxes which were moving violently about spilling their contents. The broken objects began to levitate before being thrown towards the Winchesters; sitting ducks in their current position.

Luckily for them, the spirit seemed intent on throwing as many object as possible and seemingly wasn't bothering too much about aiming.

"C'mon Dean, time to go" Sam said, hauling his brother to his feet, simultaneously ducking and dodging the projectiles flying their way.

The hunters ran towards the basement stairs, each suffering their fair share of bumps and bruises from the flying debris. Automatically shoving his brother ahead of himself in a bid to protect him as much as possible in the current situation, Dean looked towards the boxes as he headed up the stairs.

Something flickered and what he saw brought him to a standstill halfway up the steps. Stationary, Dean stared, startled when his brothers arm snaked down and grabbed his sleeve before yanking him the rest of the way up.

"Time to hustle dude" Sam said, eyes clouded with concern as he tried to gauge his brothers injures in the oppressive darkness.

"Bet I can beat you to the car Samantha" Dean said unconsciously trying to diffuse the worry he heard in his brothers voice using humour, all the while his brain ticking over with what he had just seen.

Running from the house once again, Sam took a moment to be thankful that this time at least he didn't need to support his brother. He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, stopping him from immediately getting into the car.

"Lemme see" he said, grimacing slightly as the adrenaline left his body allowing him to feel his new aches and bruises.

"Just a scratch dude, stop fussing" Dean said, still clutching the top of his arm and his ribs, unable to successfully conceal the pain he was in.

Sam levelled his gaze, looking straight into his bothers eyes until, sighing, Dean moved the hand covering the knife wound. The youngest Winchester noted the way his brother still protectively hugged his ribs, and made a mental note to ply Dean with pain killers when they returned to their temporary home.

Though there was quite a lot of blood seeping from his brothers arm, Sam saw that for once his brother hadn't been lying about his injury. Just a scratch, albeit quite a deep one. He smiled when he realised that it wouldn't need stitches.

"So…verdict?…am I going to die?" Dean asked his brother.

"Ha ha Dean," Sam said heading for the other door of the Impala "it could have been serious, the way you yelped when it hit you I thought it had cut your arm off" he said grinning, unable to miss the opportunity to rag on his brother.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean said, looking mortified for a moment before cocking an eyebrow at his brother "I did not 'yelp'…it was a manly groan of pain."

"Sure sounded like a yelp to me," Sam said sliding into his seat, smiling before frowning in realisation "what the hell was that anyways? We already torched Kurt's bones…unless his spirit has attached itself to an object, I'm gonna have to research this when we get back."

"It wasn't Bradley" Dean said, remembering suddenly what he had seen.

"What?" Sam said, thinking he hadn't heard his brother right as he hadn't been paying him any attention, already submerged in theories about why the spirit was still in the house.

It wasn't Kurt Bradley, never was…it was Katy Jamison".

* * *

"Your sure it was her?" Sam asked, walking into the bathroom of their motel room to, once again, retrieve the first aid kit.

"Yeah, pretty sure…maybe" Dean said, groaning as he removed his jacket and shirt. The blood had dried sticking the fabric to the wound, ripping it open slightly as he undressed.

"No biggie, I can pull up a photo of her on my laptop so you can check," Sam said leaving the bathroom "now pass me your arm"

Sitting on the bed beside his brother, Sam washed and bandaged the knife wound. "So you think it was the same spirit both times?" he asked Dean.

"Yeah dude, same MO; poltergeist like activity centring round the basement, the facts still all fit, we just had the wrong casper."

"Looks like" Sam said, booting up his laptop before tapping away at the keys. He spun it round towards his brother, revealing a 1967 newspaper article about the disappearance of Katy Jamison complete with photograph.

"That's her, that's the girl I saw," Dean stood before moving closer to the screen "although she was a little paler, guess she doesn't get out much" he said, flicking his eyes to his brother and grinning. Seeing the disapproving look Sam shot his way, his smile faltered and his eyes flicked back towards the screen.

"Well if the spirit is Katy Jamison…" Sam began before being interrupted by an indignant looking Dean.

"It _is _her."

"If the spirit is Katy Jamison," Sam continued acting as if he hadn't heard his brother "we have a problem."

"Oh?" Dean asked looking at his brother.

"The police never found her body."

"Ah" Dean said still staring at the screen. His eyes narrowed suddenly and he leant forward, scrutinising the photo for a moment before leaping up and bounding towards his discarded, bloody jacket. Sam looked on, puzzled expression on his face, as his brother looked through his pockets almost feverishly.

"Aha!" Dean said, holding up a tarnished, muddy, silver bracelet and turning to face his brother, a look of glee on his face which only served to confuse Sam further.

"What's wrong Francis, not enough fibre in your diet?" Dean quipped upon seeing Sam's expression "seriously, dude, the constipated look was so last season."

"Ha ha Dean," Sam said, his brow creasing to a frown "maybe I wouldn't have to look like that if you explain why your holding up an old bracelet and grinning like its an Oscar or something"

"Hmm…do they even have a category for most handsome man alive?…"

"Dean"

"Because you know they should just save time and start carving my name into one now"…

"_Dean_"

"Do you think I should just have my name or like, _'Dean Winchester-Sex GOD_?"…

"DEAN"

"What?!"

"What is the deal with the bracelet?!"

Dean shook his head, looking at his brother with a _what bracelet _look on his face, before realisation finally dawned shattering his daydream.

"It's Katy's bracelet, I think she's been buried in Kurt's cellar, like that chick in Rhode Island" he said holding the jewellery out to his brother so he could take a closer look.

"Why do you think that?" Sam said, scrutinising the silver band.

"Check out the photo," Dean said, swinging the laptop round to face Sam.

Leaning in, Sam studied the image of Katy Jamison, paying particular attention to her wrist. Looking at the bracelet in his hand, he compared it to the one in the photograph. It was a perfect match.

Blowing out his cheeks he looked up at Dean's expectant face before saying "dude, I think you might be right."

"Of course I'm right Sammy boy, I'm the oldest, I'm always right."

Shaking his head at the grin plastered on his brothers face, Sam almost grimaced as he thought about what they would have to do next.

"See, there's that face again, you sure you don't need like brown bread and bran flakes?" Dean asked, the laughter evident in his voice.

"I was thinking…"

"Well if that's what everyone looks like when they think, I am officially laving all thought processes to you as of now, ain't no way I'm ever risking my face looking like that."

Sam glared at his brother a moment before continuing "like I was saying, I was thinking about how hard its going to be to salt and burn the body, we've pretty much had out asses handed to us both times we've been on the property."

"Hmm, good point. But we were unprepared both times, the bitch took us by surprise both times, this time we're going in with a clear idea as to what we're doing and what Katy Jamison's spirit is capable of" Dean said, all business.

"True, I hadn't thought of it like that," Sam said, musing "what I don't get is why her spirit is doing this anyway, why would she want to put people through what she went through?"

"Vengeful spirit dude, she's a chick too, since when did anything a woman do make sense" Dean said chuckling.

Sam yawned, stretching before turning off his laptop, "well I'm going to hit the sack," he said to his brother "gonna be a loooong night tomorrow."

"And you want to be pretty for your face to face with Katy huh, Sammy you sly dog. Night then" Dean said, shooting one last grin at his brother before undressing and getting into bed.

"Jerk"

"Bitch"

* * *

The Rhode Island reference is from Houses of the Holy, I'm guessing only die hard fans would recognise where it was from so i thought i would add a little authors note here at the end, just in case y'all were confused :)

Update tomorrow!

All comments and critiques welcome

XsarahX

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	8. Chapter 8

BIG, big thankyou to all my reviewers out there, and for everyone who is sticking with this fic

Disclaimer: We all know I own nothing, stop rubbing it in already :p

* * *

Idling the day away had proved to be a lot harder than either brother anticipated. Sam had lost count of the number of times he had to tell Dean to stop flicking through the TV channels.

_Flick, flick, flick, flick "DEAN!"_

Eventually though, the dark fingers of the evening crept across the sky. They had briefly discussed a battle plan, namely Dean acting as bait while Sam took care of the body.

Sam had not been particularly happy about this arrangement, remembering, even if Dean apparently didn't, about his brothers battered ribs. However, after his brothers threat to tie him to the bed and leave him if he even thought about doing anything other than digging the hole, Sam caved and agreed to the plan.

So hours and gallons of coffee later, the Winchesters once again found themselves outside of the cursed house, fully intending it to be the last time.

"So I'm going to go in first and get Sally slice and dice's attention, and then you can go in and barbeque the sonuvabitch" Dean said, rooting through the trunk of the Impala for extra rock salt rounds to go with the sawn off shotgun loosely nested in the crook of his arm.

"Dean, I still don't like this idea man, this is one strong spirit, I don't think we should split up" Sam said, accepting the shogun his brother handed to him.

"Look, I told you already, she only managed to get the drop on us the last two times because she had the element of surprise, she doesn't have that this time so its going to be a lot easier to keep control of the situation."

"Fine, but I'm not carrying you back to the car this time, your ass is heavy" Sam said sighing, unable to shift the feeling from the pit of his stomach.

Once again walking up the steps of the decrepit porch, this time alone, Dean half turned and nodded to his brother before entering the house.

"Kaaaaty, hey Kaaaaaty!" Dean called, heading upstairs. He wanted to draw the spirit as far away from the basement and his brother as was possible.

"Here ghosty, ghosty ghosty" he called trying to goad a response "come on you pale assed sonuvabitch!"

He entered the room where he had found Sam during the first sweep of the house and mentally shook himself. His memory of getting to the bedroom with the intent of saving Sam was fuzzy at best, but he clearly remembered the feeling of dread which had ran through him upon seeing Sam's crumpled, unmoving body in the corner of the room

"Get a grip Winchester," he growled to himself "can't afford to be distracted here."

Moving inwards, he spread a line of salt across the sill of the rooms only window, so dirty it only let in a tiny, filtered amount of the bright moonlight.

Turning, he stood, legs splayed and solid, gun in hand and hollered "COME GET ME KATY, WHATS THE MATTER, YOU SCARED?!"

He allowed himself a half grin when the temperature of the room plummeted.

"Showtime."

* * *

Sam stood next to the Impala, nervously drumming his fingers on the top of the trunk. Dean had told him to wait fifteen minutes before attempting to go to the basement. That should give him enough time to distract Katy's spirit so that Sam wouldn't be bothered by her when he was sending her ass to hell.

Sam blew out his cheeks and hugged his arms closer to his body, it was another cool night. He shook is head, not wanting to think about the stupid risks his brother was taking to get the spirits attentions. He hated this plan and was determined to dig quicker than he ever had before in order to finish in time to prevent his pig headed brother from getting injured.

Looking at his watch, Sam realised it was time to party, and stooped to pick up the shotgun and shovel lying on the sidewalk before jogging silently up the porch and into the house. He stood for a moment, listening out for ay sign that his brother was in trouble.

"_COME GET ME KATY, WHATS THE MATTER, YOU SCARED?!_" the muffled shout came from upstairs, and Sam frowned at his brothers tactics. Pissing off a spirit was a reckless, albeit sure fire way, of getting a response.

He silently moved, picking up the pace and heading for the basement. The door was already ajar where they had left it during their last visit, and he headed down the steps, turning on his flashlight as he went. He treaded carefully, avoiding the debris which now littered the floor, remnants of the spirits previous attack on the brothers.

Sam shuddered when he noticed the gauge mark in the wooden beam where the knife had wound up after hitting Dean the previous evening. He muttered a silent prayer of thanks that the blade hadn't done anymore damage than it had to his brother.

Looking down at the ground, he saw the spot where Dean had dug out the bracelet, and figured it was as good a place as any to start digging. There were no other clues as to the whereabouts of Katy Jamison's body.

Placing his torch on one of the now upturned boxes, he aimed it at the ground before shedding his jacket and picking up the shovel. He placed the shotgun to the right of where he was beginning to dig, within easy reach in case he should need it.

Digging with a feverish fury, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and stiffened when the sound of a shotgun reverberated through the house, shattering the silence.

* * *

Dean tightened his grasp around the gun, eyes flicking back and forth trying to determine where the imminent attack would be coming from. He moved around the outside of the room, heading for the doorway, salt canister in hand.

Seeing movement at the corner of his eye, he turned his head in time to see objects once more levitating from the ground. He sneered, so he was to be indulged with the same treatment as Sam was on his fist visit. Keeping a wary eye on the slowly levitating objects, he stooped low to the ground, and shook out a thick line of salt across the entrance, smiling to himself when he noted the shards of broken door littering the ground where he had kicked through in his haste to save his brother.

Essentially trapped in the room, Katy's spirit flickered in and out of his vision, face crumpled in rage, letting out a harsh scream which tore through the night. Dean knew that his trap wouldn't last long, a spirit this powerful would quickly figure out a way to disrupt the salt lines and get itself free in no time. He planned on staying in the room and keeping her attentions firmly away from Sam.

"How do you like that you sonuvabitch" he said, sneering at the spirit.

Evidently, she didn't like being tricked, as Dean found himself flying across the room, hitting into the desk, splintering the wood. White hot pain lanced through his side as his busted ribs protested the action, and he groaned as he scrambled to his knees reaching for his shotgun.

Standing upright, he found himself looking directly into the fierce, angry eyes of Katy Jamison. Floating about a meter from the ground, the spirit looked unblinkingly at Dean, head cocked to one side, murderous expression on her face. Her long hair lay in filthy, matted curls upon her slim shoulders. Her pale grey skin was marred with hundreds of deep gashes and her tattered colourless, clothes were covered in black, long dried blood.

She slowly moved towards the hunter, smiling menacingly. Blinking away the black edges of his vision, Dean grinned cockily at Katy Jamison's spirit, before bringing his gun up and letting off a shot, instantly, if fleetingly, banishing the threat.

"Ugghhh, I'm getting too old for this" Dean said, bending forwards and bracing his hands on his knees, attempting to control the pain shooting through his ribs.

Head down and vulnerable, he didn't notice Katy's reappearance, looking up in time to see a piece of wood swinging towards his head, held baseball bat style by invisible hands. Dean was knocked off his feet when the wood collided with his temple, drawing blood and hitting with enough force to stun.

Dean looked up through bleary eyes at Katy's spirit. Letting out another ear shattering screech, she stood in the centre of the room, arms raised. Lifting he head, she closed her eyes, seemingly concentrating. A terrible wind began blowing through the room, picking up all of the debris and paper scattered about, before circling the spirit almost as an awesome display of her power.

Snapping her head towards the hunter she screeched once again and Dean almost flinched a the hatred in her eyes. He looked towards the doorway, and the line of salt which was being slowly depleted by the swirling winds, before flicking his eyes back towards the angry spirit determination glinting at the surface of his gaze.

He moved his arm, reaching out for the gun which had been knocked from his grasp. The winds slammed into him, wildly blowing his hair and clothes and making his attempts at crawling towards the shotgun almost impossible. With a loud yell, the older Winchester threw himself forwards with his remaining energy and grabbed the gun, rolling onto his side and aiming towards the centre of the cyclone.

His eyes widened as he felt his body lifting slowly from the ground, joining the whirling mass of objects. Noticing the line of salt finally being broken, he had time to think one last thought before he was tossed across the room, slamming into the wall and thudding to the floor bonelessly.

"Sorry Sammy."

* * *

As ever, update tomorrow.

You know I only just realised how much I beat Dean up in this fic...lol oops

Never fear, it's Sammy's turn tomorrow for all the Sam hurt fans out there, promise :D

All comments and critiques welcome

XsarahX


	9. Chapter 9

Allow me a moment to beg for all y'all's forgiveness -begs-

I know I said the next update would be like three days ago, but my wonderful computer decided that out of the family's five profiles, it would eat mine. I lost literally everything, every document from the last two years and about 74 hours worth of music, so I'v spent the last few days making a new profile and making it more homely. Luckily, I started this fic on my laptop so I was able to salvage some of this chapter, although I'v had to rewrite a lot of it.

I changed this chapter a lot too by adding a more Sam wumpage in response to some of the reviews I got from unhappy Sam lovers. Ask and ye shall recieve!

Disclaimer: Same as always, I own nothing!

* * *

Spurred on by the sound of the shotgun, Sam had been digging like a madman, searching for any sign of Katy Jamison's corpse. Hearing the screeches and thuds from the top of the house served only to speed up his frenzied hunt.

He almost whooped in joy when he finally exposed the top of a human skull, carefully revealing the rest of the remains before scrabbling out of the shallow ditch and heading towards the corner of the room where he had stashed the salt and gasoline.

He stood still for a moment, listening out warily. The house had become suddenly eerily quiet, and he was worried for his brother.

The first sign he received that he was in trouble was the terrible, banshee like wail which was loud enough to rattle his eardrums. Turning wildly on the spot, he tried to determine where the spirit was, finally catching sight of her hovering over the steps before being launched into the air, crashing to the ground beside the shallow grave.

Finding himself on the wrong side of the room to the salt and gasoline, he reached for the shotgun, determined to finish the salt and burn as quickly as possible and go searching for his brother, feeling in his gut that something had gone wrong.

Rolling to his knees, Sam pulled himself up with the help of the wall, urging his legs to shake off their jelly like feeling. Katy slowly floated towards him, a mass of debris levitating behind her, hatred in her eyes. She held out her hand towards the hunters gun, tearing it from his grip and throwing it across the room.

Raising her hands, the floating objects shot forward as one hitting into Sam with force enough to throw him to the floor.

Spitting blood from a split lip, Sam wobbly got to his feet, willing himself to remain conscious. He looked at the spirit with fire in his eyes, noting that she was now holding two vicious looking knives in her hands. Knowing that his next move could lead to an early death, he watched her movements, slowly calculating.

At the moment the spirit launched the knives towards the young hunter, he dived towards his discarded shotgun, turning an firing off a shot. To his dismay, the shot went wild, missing the ghost and if anything serving only to make her madder.

Throwing the now useless, empty shotgun aside, Sam quickly came up with a battle plan in his mind, 'g_et to the salt.' _The shotgun was not as effective on this spirit, what with her being so strong, but not having it in his possession put him at a serious disadvantage. He figured if reached the salt he would be able to make a protective circle around himself to give him precious minutes to figure out his next move…or failing that he would just throw some at her and hope it banished her for a few moments.

He scrambled to a crouched position so he would be a smaller target for whatever plan the spirit had next for him, and began weaving across the basement, hopping over the piles of debris and old boxes keeping his eyes locked firmly on Katy's levitating form.

Head cocked, she regarded him for a moment before slowly smiling. Screaming she launched herself towards the younger Winchester once again, knives once more appearing in her hands.

Sam attempted the same duck and dive move he had earlier, but this time he wasn't so lucky. One of the knives slammed into his thigh, burying itself in to its handle, and white hot pain lashed through his body.

He hit the floor in a crumpled heap, the impact jarring his fresh injury and sending another bolt of pain lancing through his thigh. Gasping, Sam blinked trying to clear his eyes which were clouded with agony, and grasped at his injured leg. The knife had once more vanished, leaving behind a gaping wound, bleeding freely.

He moved to roll onto his knees, he still had a spirit to roast, but his body wouldn't let him and the intended movement only resulted in a slight twitch. Nausea swept through him and he let out a groan.

Eyeing up the spirit, he wondered if this was it. After all he and his brother had been through, he was going to die in a basement at the hands of an angry woman. He chuckled to himself at how Deanish the indignant thought of dying at the hands of a chick was, before an overwhelming wave of sadness crashed into him at the thought that he would never see his brother again.

The spirit eyed her prone quarry for a moment before rushing towards him, lifting him from the ground and preparing to snap him in two. From behind her, a shout halted her movements.

"HEY! Hands off my little brother bitch!"

Standing on unsteady legs beside the pit, Dean evenly eyed the spirit with unfocused eyes, lighter in hand. Almost in slow motion the flame dropped towards the remains. With another skull splitting screech Katy turned, leaving Sam to fall to the ground with a sickening crunch, and flew towards Dean knife in hand.

She walloped into him seconds before flickering out of existence with a flash of flame and a final scream.

Sam lay where he was for a second in the sudden silence, blinking back tears of pain. He had landed on his arm awkwardly when he had been dropped and was certain it was broken. He let out a strangled laugh of relief, knowing the spirit was gone and wouldn't be coming back.

Composing himself enough to finally look up towards his brother, his laugh almost turned to a sob as he saw something which made his blood run cold.

The fading handle of a knife sticking up from his brothers side.

"Dean…DEAN!" Sam yelled, tears running freely down his cheeks, and he half crawled half stumbled across the room dragging his injured leg, coming to a stop on his knees beside his brother. Holding his broken left arm close to his body, he pressed his fingers against Dean's throat, hunting for a pulse.

It was low and too fast, but it was there. Smiling through his tears in relief, Sam touched his brothers shoulder in an effort to rouse him.

"Dean," he said through his sobs "come on, wake up, don't you dare leave me here."

"Don't…cry Sammy," Dean said, gasping for breath, eyes fluttering "not….going…nowhere". Deans chest quivered with the effort of breathing, and Sam took stock of the angle of the knife wound, figuring one of his lungs had been pierced by the now absent knife.

He wiped at his eyes with his good hand, relief coursing through him at the sound of his brothers voice.

"Ok, ok, ok, ok," he said, slightly panicking "I'm going to phone for an ambulance, but I'm going to have to move you outside otherwise we're going to have to explain the body and the fire". He realised he was rambling, talking to himself as Dean had passed out giving into the darkness to avoid the pain.

Sam's fingers fumbled in his pocket pulling out his cell phone and dialling 911. After demanding an ambulance and barking out the address, he stiffly pulled his brother to a sitting position, draping Deans arm across his shoulder before wrapping his good arm around the elder Winchesters waist.

Sam inched upwards, wincing as pain lashed through his thigh. He moved forward at a stoop, not trusting himself to be able to walk at full height.

Reaching the dining room, he paused for a moment, his world suddenly tilting on a whole new axis, and would have fallen if not for the tightening pull of Dean's arm around his waist. He marvelled at how his brother was even conscious, never mind aiding Sam in his own rescue.

"You…k?" he gasped, the words almost coming out as a groan of pain.

"Yeah Dean" Sam said, not wanting to say more in case his brother detected the strain the pain was putting on his voice.

Stumbling, the brothers headed towards the front lawn, each leaning on the other in support. Dean pushed past his own pain and refusing to give into the comforting lull of unconsciousness, needing to attempt to help his baby brother as much as possible, even if it was only in helping to carry his own weight.

Sam stumbled to his knees, laying his brother down and hoping that they hadn't done anymore damage to their wounds in the move from the basement to the lawn. He marvelled at how they had both managed to make it that far, each getting a boost of adrenaline from worrying about the other.

Dean finally gave into the darkness which had been creeping around the edge of his vision, pain still etched into his face in the form of a frown on his forehead.

Sam once again felt the tears leaking from his eyes as he monitored his brothers breathing which was getting shallower and shallower as his body tried to pull air into the deflated lung.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he said out loud as if willing the ambulance to appear would make it move quicker. He let out another strangled sob as he finally heard the approaching sound of the siren.

"Your going to be ok Dean," he said, gripping his brothers hand and rocking back and forth with glassy eyes "you have to be ok."

Sam barely registered the feeling of the EMT's hand on his shoulder, he was so caught up in praying for Dean to be ok. He slowly turned his head up to face the young man, unable suddenly to hear what was going on around him. He looked down almost stupidly as his brother was taken out of his arms and mobbed by two more EMT's.

He did, however, hear in a moment of clarity "_knife wound…shallow breathing…think hes going to be ok_" before his tired and battered body finally gave into the darkness which was calling his name.

* * *

So what did y'all think? I know Dean still came off with an injury, but I had already written it in before all you Sam girls mentioned the lack of Sammy wumpage, and I didn't want to change it. But i did beat the snot out of him too in this chapter lol

Anyways, apologies for the late update once more, no idea when the next one will be up because I have to rewrite it, and I'm packing for a move to uni on saturday -jumps about squealing-

but it should be fairly soon :D

all comments and critiques welcome!

XsarahX


	10. Authors note

Authors Note- and recap

OK….let me just start by saying how pathetically sorry I am that I haven't updated in such a long time….the only reason I can call on is that life became a helluvalot more hectic recently. I moved out of my house into uni accommodation….and then suddenly Christmas jumped on my head and there was no time to even breath lol.

So yeah, I apologise most humbly to those who have been with this fic from the beginning, and who had it on story alert.

This 'chapter' is a recap of sorts, as I am planning on updating with the last chapter/chapters verrrry soon….as soon as I have written it/them. So for those of you with fantastic memories, take this as an apology, and for those of you who don't have a clue what's going on I'm going to summarise in bullet points what this fic is aboot just to get y'all up to speed

-On their way to a suspected black dog incident, the guys chance upon another hunt. Two young women, found murdered within a week of each other, locked in the basement of a house, with no evidence of there ever being another person in the room.

-Upon first inspection of the house, they get beat to hell by an unidentified spirit.

-Much research later, they suspect the spirit to be Kurt Bradley, a man who tortured a woman to death using a knife over a three week period, and who didn't confess to the crime until 10 years later after a guilt ridden , solitary life. Kurt then committed suicide on the first day of his sentence.

-After a good old, and faaar too easy, salt and burn the guys go back to the house thinking it to be supernatural free, only to be beat again by the spirit who reveals itself to be the Kurt's victim, Katy Jamison.

-Going back to the motel room to lick their wounds, the guys surmise that the body of the vengeful spirit must be buried in the basement of the house as Dean discovered her bracelet partially buried in the floor.

-Going back for the last time, Dean caused a diversion whilst Sam dug for the bones. Much wumpage and stabbing later, both guys are unconscious and that is where we hopefully rejoin the fic :D

Right, so I'm going to get right on in writing this last segment of the fic, again, uber sorry for the stupidly long wait between updates,

XsarahX


	11. Chapter 11

Woop :D as promised, here is the newest chapter of my fic, I got it out a lot quicker than I thought I actually would. I started writing as soon as I finished the apology chapter and have just finished it today.

Again, apologies at how frikken' long it has taken for me to get this thing out, but better late then never huh?

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys...although it would be nice if i did :D

* * *

Bright light…

Bright, white light…

Bright, white light and _really_ annoying beeping…

Sam's eyes fluttered, the effort to merely stay conscious etched into the frown on his forehead. He willed himself to become lucid enough to check out his surroundings, practically hearing his father's commanding voice breaking through his hazy thoughts to remind him of this basic training, drilled into him as a child.

Finally, exhausted by the mere action of opening his eyelids, Sam took his first look round at the hospital room he had already surmised he was lying in. Squinting against the overly bright light, he took in the sight of the numerous wires and machines surrounding his bed. His mind reached out from underneath the blanket of sedation, trying to grasp at something…something which had seemed so very urgent and still sent bolts of panic shooting through his mind whenever he tried to think of it.

Then in a blinding flash it all came back to him. One word so easily bringing back all of the memories and emotion of the evening with such pressing force it made it hard to breath.

_Dean…_

He turned his head quickly trying to seek out his brother, his rock in his time of need, and if ever such a time was, it was now. The movement sent a spike of pain shooting through his head, almost physically flashing behind his eyes.

Sam remembered Dean lying on the floor breathing in a fluttering, laboured manner, not unlike a fish out of water. The memory sent an icy cold blast of fear throughout his body and his heart rate quickened. The incessant beeping of the machine in the background which he had almost become used to, now accelerated until it seemed like it became a continuous droning squeal.

The worry for his brother teamed with the adrenaline now pouring through his body caused the young hunter to begin hyperventilating. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard what sounded like some sort of alarm going off, but he was so busy trying to breathe that he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. All of a sudden his room seemed to be full of activity, the warning sounds bringing a flurry of nurses to his aid.

Sam's vision tunneled, and the last thing he saw was the worried face of a young woman a few inches from his face, her mouth opening and shutting as if she was speaking, though he could hear no noise. One of the other blurry shapes he assumed to be a person whipped out a needle and squirted it in the air before plunging it into his IV.

* * *

The young hunter felt his breathing even out and a sense of calm descend over his body like a warm blanket. His heart beat stopped thudding so loudly in his ears and he gave out a sigh before relaxing back into the lumpy, hospital issue pillow and falling back into the deep, black well of unconsciousness.

"Sir…sir…sir can you hear me?"

Sam awoke the second time to an incessant voice, and a gentle touch on his arm. Blinking sluggishly, he peered towards the source of his annoyance, seeing the same nurse peering into his eyes as before. This time, he took a moment to compose his thoughts before allowing the fear surrounding the worry for Dean to trickle into perspective.

He looked imploringly into the face of the woman, trying to get across to her his need to know what had happened to his brother. She looked down into the brown, endless pools staring up at her with such pain and need that it took her breath away for a moment. Seeing the young man before her croak in an attempt to communicate, she grabbed the jug of water placed next to his bed and poured glass before bringing it to his lips and allowing him to take little sips.

"…De…Dean….where"

"Dean? Is that the name of the other man they brought in with you?" the nurse asked, frowning slightly. She had seen the arrival of both young men, and he hadn't looked so great. Red, red blood a stark contrast to his pale skin.

"…where.." Sam couldn't seem to get his voice to work properly as it tried to break through the last of the drugs coursing through his system.

"Let me just get your doctor" the nurse said before dashing from the room. Her task had been to try and gently wake the patient every hour since his sedation, and to notify someone as soon as he was lucid enough to answer questions.

Sam lay, slowly attempting to move his limbs in an effort to see what was working and what wasn't. His right arm was heavy…a cast now adorning it. It wasn't too painful though, just a dull throb. Moving down to his legs his right moved without difficulty…but when attempted to shift the left, pain lashed out sending a shiver throughout his body.

He remembered in a flash the knife hitting his thigh straight into the muscle. Keeping perfectly still, he controlled his breathing and concentrated on blocking out the pain. Hearing approaching footsteps, he swallowed hard in anticipation of the questions he was going to have to ask…and the answers he was going to receive.

"Hello son," the doctor said as he walked into the room "good to see you finally awake".

The name badge revealed that the kindly looking, little old man in front of him was Dr. Matthews. The smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye instantly made Sam feel more relaxed.

"My brother?" he said, his voice finally seeming to work once more.

"All in good time son," the doctor said, still smiling, "he's doing ok though so don't worry yourself too much, you need to keep strong so you can get yourself better".

In that one sentence, Sam's world became right again. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding onto and felt tears spring into his eyes. The weight instantly lifted from his shoulders, his brother was ok and that's all that mattered.

"If your up to it I'd like to run you through what's going on with that body of yours, and what its going to take to get you back on your feet again".

"Sure, I...sure, yeah, anything, when can I see m'brother" Sam said, not particularly caring for his own well being, and feeling more concern for Dean.

"Let me deal with you first ok Sam?" Dr. Matthews said, chuckling at the look of confusion which flitted across his young wards face "if your wondering how I know your name sonny, it was on the drivers license in you wallet".

Sam let out a sigh of relief, he knew that the current license he owned listed him as a Sam Phillips, so the brothers cover had not been blown.

"Right, lets see," the doctor said, scanning the chart in front of him "your injuries are listed as; a fractured arm, general cuts and bruises and the knife wound to the thigh. Now, your going to have to talk to the police when you feel up to it, its normal protocol to involve the law when a patient is brought in with injuries caused by a knife or gun. The reason you passed out at the scene of the incident is, as far as we can determine, fatigue teamed with minor blood loss. We're going to have to keep you in the hospital for around five days, mainly to keep an eye on that leg of yours. The knife only punctured muscle and it stitched back together cleanly without problem, should take around two weeks to heal providing you take it easy. Your arm will take a little longer, around three weeks, but the fracture is not severe and so should heal without complication...any questions?".

Sam paused for a moment taking everything in. He didn't like the fact that he would have to talk to the police, but knew he would be able to cook up a good enough cover story to see his brother and himself being able to get away cleanly. After a moment there was just one question he could think of:

"When will I be able to see my brother?"

Dr. Matthews couldn't suppress the chuckle at the young mans question. He could see how much the patient cared for his brother just by looking at his face. But he could also see how tired he still was, his eyelids drooping uncontrollably even as he spoke.

"I think you should take the day easily, you need to rest son. I promise when you wake up I will have you taken to your brothers room and we can talk about what's happening with his injuries more then."

"OK.." Sam managed to get out the word after a huge yawn, knowing his brother was going to be ok allowed his mind to fully focus on just how tired he actually was. Despite his best interests, he found himself falling into an easy sleep. He would be able to see his brother soon.

* * *

Right, nearly at the end methinks. One more to go probably. I'll get on it as soon as my muse has had a slight rest, its been working overtime since last night and allowed me to write this chapter :D lol

all reviews and critiques welcome, thanks to everyone who didnt give up on this fic :D

XsarahX

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	12. Chapter 12

I did it again didn't I...long pause between an update. My concience got the better of me and I'v just finished of this chapter lol

Enjoy

* * *

The moment Sam had opened his eyes, he had all but demanded to be taken to his brother. Growing frustrated waiting for the nurse to bring the wheelchair, he had been in the process of moving from the bed by the time she returned, managing to pull on the stitches around his thigh causing him to gasp in pain.Going down the hallway he had to count to ten in order to refrain from grabbing the wheels and speeding himself along to his goal as the whole being pushed thing wasn't getting him there quick enough.

And yet despite his frustrations at not getting to see his brother quick enough...and the anticipation he had felt since waking, once he was actually outside his brothers room…all he felt was dread. Both brothers had seen their fair share of hospital rooms, and each had been in the others position…the patient and the worrying sibling. In Sam's opinion…being the patient was a lot easier.

The young nurse explained to him that Dean would be hooked up to machines and wires, taking readings of god knew what, he really wasn't paying attention. Instead his thoughts were centred on seeing his brother.

"…so I'll leave you here, you can go in when you're ready" knowing the young, haunted looking man before her wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to what she was saying the nurse quietly walked away to attend to her other patients.

Taking one final deep breath, Sam wheeled himself forward and opened the door into Dean's room. The tension left his shoulders as he finally clapped eyes on his rock after what felt like forever without him. He laughed a shaky laugh at the thought that his brother could make him feel better even as he lay unconscious in a hospital bed.

Dean's skin was pale, but there was a slight colour in his cheeks allowing for him to look like he was just resting and having a sleep after a very eventful hunt. His breathing was shallow but steady, and the heart monitor beeping in its oh so annoying, yet weirdly reassuring way, told of a strong heartbeat. If he concentrated hard enough, Sam could just about pretend that all the wires and machinery surrounding the bed didn't exist, and it was just him and his brother united against the world and everything in it.

Slowly wheeling towards the bed, he stood and shakily shuffled the last few metres towards the chair which sat beside his brother.

Chuckling, he lay a had on Dean's arm, "what a pair we make huh, me walking like an old man, and you spending the day in bed…so much for the Winchester rep".

The words all but caught in his throat as he looked into his brothers carefree face, Dean always looked so young when he was asleep...or unconscious…or whatever.

Moving carefully so as to avoid knocking any of the equipment around the bed, Sam leant forwards and placed his hand on his brothers arm. Feeling he muscle twitch slightly below his palm, Sam smiled, allowing himself to believe that Dean knew he was there. Not knowing how long he sat in the same position, Sam gradually felt his head getting closer and closer to the hospital bed.

* * *

Some time later, Dr Matthews came quietly into the room, looking for his young charge who wasn't in bed. He couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him. Sam's head lay on the bed, alongside his brothers arm. For the first time since he had arrived in the hospital, his patient had a smile on his face, his features altogether more relaxed. Dr Matthews sighed to himself, unwilling to disturb Sam, but knowing he had to for the patients own good. He walked toward the bed not wanting to startle Sam, and involuntarily let out a gasp as he glanced toward the other patient.

Dean eyes were open, and they were fixed on the Doctors face. The older Winchester had been aware of the fact that he was alive and lying on a bed for a few hours, however he had not been able to muster enough energy to open his eyes and get a proper bearing of his current situation. He had felt Sam's presence in the room some time before, and had allowed himself to nap, safe in the knowledge that his baby brother was able bodied enough to be moving around.

He had also drawn comfort from the feeling of Sam's hand on his arm…although he would rather take on the yellow eyed demon then admit that to him.

At this precise moment though, he felt anything but relaxed. He had awoken to the sound of someone entering the room, and feeling the weight of his brothers head resting on his bed, knew that it wasn't Sammy. Instantly the hunter in him had him alert and ready...

As ready as he could be lying in a hospital bed anyways. Eyeing the Doctor warily, he put all the remaining energy he had into shooting the most hostile glare he could. His natural instinct was to not trust anyone, regardless of the uniform they wore.

"Hello there Dean, my name is Dr Matthews, its good to see you finally awake" the Dr could see that his attempts at easing this hostile patients mind weren't working, judging by the fact that Dean's eyes only narrowed further.

"I think it would be a good idea if we got Sam back into his own room, both of you need plenty of rest at the moment, and I doubt he's very comfortable where he is now huh" he said, the ever present twinkle in his eye shining all the more, accompanying the mirth in his voice.

In spite of himself, Dean's face relaxed as instinct was telling him that this doctor was a good man and, even more importantly, that he seemed to care about Sam's well being.

"Alright then," Dr Matthews said, openly smiling as he realised that Dean's newly relaxed posture meant he had cracked through the young mans harsh trust barrier "let me just get Sam back into his wheelchair and you can both get some sleep. I'll be back later to check on you an if you're up to it, we can talk more about you".

As he spoke, the doctor had moved towards Sam, gently patting him on the shoulder before helping him into the chair. He smiled as the younger Winchester looked around through bleary, sleep filled eyes before plopping down onto the seat and almost instantly falling asleep again. Looking up he noticed Dean's face, now relaxed in sleep, and slowly wheeled Sam out back towards his room and the waiting bed.

* * *

The next time Dean awoke, he noticed two things. One, the Dr Matthews guy was stood at the bottom of the bed, apparently reading his board and checking all was going smoothly. The other, was that Sam's bed had been wheeled into the room. He smiled to himself thinking about the fuss his little brother must have caused to be allowed such a thing.

Worry clouded his eyes as he realised that people had managed to move an entire bed into his room without even remotely disturbing his sleep. "_Must have really been out of it_" he thought to himself.

Dr Matthews nodded to himself as he read the stat report for the young man in front of him, all was progressing nicely. He looked up and smiled at Dean, dipping his head in a greeting.

"Hello again, you look a lot better than when I first saw you I have to say" he said, his face growing suddenly stern at the memory of the night Dean had been wheeled in on a gurney, covered in blood and gasping for breath. Shaking his head to clear the memory, he focused on the face staring up at him.

Dean frowned, realising that his voice wasn't working and his mouth was parched. The doctor realised his predicament, moving towards the side of the bed to grab the jug of water. Pouring a glass he moved it towards Dean's mouth, allowing him to sip the cool liquid.

Sighing in satisfaction, the older Winchester lay back into his uncomfortable, hospital issue pillow and looked up at the doctor, a question in his eyes.

"Sam…"

"Is fine, well as fine as he can be," the doctor said, answering the question before it was asked "you were his first concern upon waking too, you can tell you guys are brothers".

Dragging the chair at the foot of the bed towards Dean, the doctor sat, clipboard on his lap and addressed the young man in front of him. After explaining about Sam's injuries, the doctor reassured Dean that everything was going swimmingly concerning his brothers healing process.

"And now onto you," he said taking deep breath, "you had us scared for a little while Dean. We took you straight into surgery to sort that lung of yours. Everything went ok with the op, and it should heal in about two to three weeks. You had some head injuries which attributed to a slight concussion, and probably didn't help things any. Aside from that you have general cuts and bruises, but nothing worrying. You guys sure got worked over by those guys who jumped you" the doctor shook his head, his mouth forming a grim line.

"_Good call Sammy_" Dean thought realising the cover his brother had come up with. After sitting a moment to digest what the doctor had told him, he flashed a trademark grin and said "but I still get to eat the jell-o right".

"You can eat all the jell-o you want," Dr Matthews said chuckling before growing sombre, "tell me Dean, where does someone like you get all of the scars I saw when you were on the operating table?".

"What can I say doc, it's a tough paper round, but somebody has to do it" the smile on Dean's face was almost good enough, but it was the look in his eyes which told of a longer, deeper story that the doctor was almost too scared to ask of.

After a moment of staring into the soul of the young man before him, he once more replaced the smile on his face, and stood to leave "indeed, get some rest Dean, the more sleep you have the sooner you'll heal up".

"G'night doc" Dean said, closing his eyes with a sigh.

* * *

ARGH this thing just never ends! I keep trying to wrap it up, but I don't want to rush it...but I also don't want to drag it out lol.

I'm going to make the next chapter the last one. I was going to do the entire hospital stay but I don't think I will. It's killing the flow of the fic i feel...I dont know...thoughts?

I want to move onto newer and brighter things so I'm going to wrap this baby soon

All comments and critiques welcome as always

XsarahX

p.s. I only proof read this one twice so apologies for any mistakes in grammer/spelling


	13. Chapter 13

Ok, so yet again, HUGE gap between posts. Im a terrible person I know, but i vow never to post another fic until its fully finished first lol.

This is the last chapter of this fic, its been a wild ride, but one i'v enjoyed. It took on a life of its own and ended up a whole lot longer than i imagined. Anyways enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox, im just playing in it for a while

* * *

One and a half weeks later, Sam found himself sitting beside his brothers hospital bed.

Having been discharged himself a few days earlier, he was now entrusted with the less than desirable task of entertaining a Dean, who had restless legs even at the thought of sitting in a bed for one day…never mind for weeks at a time.

Sam was pretty much right as rain. The muscles in his leg were sore, almost achy, but it wasn't noticeable compared to some of the injuries the young hunter had endured in his lifetime. There was still a sizable scar, but nothing that wouldn't fade with time. He had had to take a few days getting used to putting his weight onto it again once he was up and moving about, but the limp was hardly noticeable now unless you knew what you were looking for. His arm was still in the cast, and he itched the only visible bare skin absentmindedly, eagerly awaiting the day when he could remove it.

The cuts were fading and the bruises yellowing on both hunters, leaving no mark of the spirit which they had invested so much of their effort ridding. Katy was a topic of conversation which was wordlessly consented as banned from the hospital room. The Winchesters didn't need anymore attention being brought to them, and someone walking in on the brothers talking about banishing a spirit might have raised a few eyebrows to say the least.

Both had already had to spend an afternoon with the Police explaining the mugging which hadn't happened, and describing assailants who didn't exist. Dean had smiled at the time, once he and his brother had a story cooked up between them there was no way people could find a hole in anything they said, they were just too good of a team.

Dean was faring a lot better than he had been on the day that said spirit had been banished. Tests confirmed his lung was almost as good as new, and the other injuries he had sustained at the hands of Katy Jamison were no longer an issue. He was literally only still within five miles of his hospital issue bed under the orders of the good Dr Matthews. The doctor was convinced that Dean had made a thorough recovery but he still wanted to keep the elder Winchester under observation in case of any side effects or over exertion.

"So he didn't actually say when we I could leave?".

"Dean".

"Because I'm totally ready to go now, I feel fine" Dean paused to breathe in an exaggerated manner as if to prove how fine his lungs were working.

"Dean"

"See, fine, nothing wrong with me. Although I told him at the time that it was just a scratch anyways, something that small could never stop the great Dean Winchester…"

"_Dean_! Would you shut up! We've been through this a million times already, Dr. Matthews only said he wanted you to stay bed bound for a while, he didn't say how long for. And if your so great how come you had to go straight into life saving surgery when we arrived here hmm?!". Sam it seemed was at the end of his tether. After days of being asked the same questions over and over, he had snapped. He wasn't angry with Dean, but was just as frustrated by having to stay in the hospital for this extended period of time. Although he would gladly spend as long as it took for his brother to get better.

"Dude…." Dean said, an almost remorseful tone in his voice. Sam turned in surprise to look at his brother, it sounded like 'the great Dean Winchester' was gearing up for an apology.

"What?" he asked, his voice still short despite his best attempts to keep it steady and take the anger out.

"….stop pouting, its not a good look on you" Dean said with a huge grin, well aware of what his little brother had been expecting.

With a frustrated grunt, Sam stood and left the room with the intent of finding the good doctor to see when he could take his brother home and stop this torture. Hearing his brothers snort of laughter, he barely contained the grin which broke out on his face the moment he left the room.

Luck it seemed was on his side that morning. As he as walking towards the nurses station to enquire about the whereabouts of Dr. Matthews he spied him walking down the hallway, probably on his morning rounds, and trotted to catch up to him.

"Oh, hey Doctor, can I have a word a minute?" Sam asked matching his stride.

"Well hullo there Sam, how are you feeling today?" Dr Matthews asked, his face lighting up at the sight of the young man beside him. He stopped walking so that he could focus his full attention on Sam, he had grown somewhat fond of the two quirky Winchester brothers.

"I'm great doc, thanks, I just wanted to know when Dean…" Sam paused for a second as he noticed the two women who were talking at the station, their heads bowed low together, their tones hushed as they both scanned the papers in front of them, checking the details of the forms against the insurance card one held in their hand…

With a jolt Sam realised they were talking about him and Dean. His eyes widened as the implications of their identities being discovered rolled through his mind. His suspicions were confirmed when one of the women looked up and gave a little jump as her eyes met Sam's. She whispered something quickly into her companions ears, and a look of indifference crossed her features as she walked, albeit hurriedly, down the hall no doubt towards some higher authority in the hospital.

"Er, never mind doc, thanks anyways" Sam said, turning and trotting back to Deans room, leaving the Doctor with a puzzled look on his face.

"Oh good, your back, you have to go and tell one of the nurses that I need jell-o. Make sure it's the hot one with the cute nose." Dean said without looking up from the TV his eyes were glued to.

"Dean we have to go, they know" Sam said, trying to control his breathing.

"And make sure it strawberry, I don't like that lime crap it looks radioactive, probably is too coming from a hospital…wait a second what did you say there Frances?"

"They know"

Dean paused for a second…confusion plastered on his face, until suddenly a look of comprehension flitted across his eyes.

"Well what are you waiting for sasquatch, get m'boots" . Although the picture of complacency only moments before, Dean was now all business, methodically removing the wires which had been attached to his body to monitor his health. Sam had dived across the room at his words, bringing out the stack of clothes and his brothers shoes, along with the one duffel concealed in there. The brothers always set up their clothes like this during a hospital stay for just such an emergency, so they could be ready and go within minutes.

Dean dressed efficiently, knowing that the wires being disturbed from his body would set off alarms to the nurses.

"Right, lets go Sammy" he said turning, and jumping at the sight of Doctor Matthews filling the doorway.

"So, Sam and Dean Phillips is it? I don't think so hmm" he asked quietly.

"Doc, I don't want to hurt you, your a great guy, but if you try to stop me or m'brother leaving I wont hold back I promise" Dean said, the dangerous tone in his voice and his eyes flashing.

To his credit the doctor didn't even quail under the death glare he was receiving. Instead he walked towards them slowly.

"I'm not going to try to stop you, I'm going to try to help you," he said slowly, as if considering the consequences his proposed actions would have. "I saw the nurses talking Sam and I saw the panic in your eyes, didn't take long to put two and two together. Now for some reason, even though you feel the need to keep your identities secret, I trust you…and so I'm going to help you".

"Thank you" Sam said, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"Don't thank me yet, I cant promise I can get you out undetected, I'll do what I can though".

"Great," Dean said, all the danger and tension leaving his voice and body language "show us the way Doc".

Doctor Matthews walked quickly, but unhurriedly from the room with his two young charges following him. Keeping an air of ease about him, only given away by the tension in his shoulders, he headed towards his office. Taking a sharp turn and leading the brothers to an unmarked door to the back of their ward, he pulled a card from his pocket and slipped it quickly through the scanner. It opened with a quiet click into a dim corridor which had many doors along its length. Taking them to the last one, he turned to the Winchesters and sighed.

"You go through this door and take a left, go out and down those stairs and go right, that will lead you to the car park".

"Doctor, I don't know what to say, except thank you" Sam said, his eyes shining slightly.

"Just keep yourselves safe, and remember if your ever in this neck of the woods again and you need help, gimme a call ok" he replied, the twinkle in his eye standing out even more in the dim light.

Sam pulled him into a one armed hug before opening the door and stepping out once he figured the coast was clear. Dean turned to the doctor and put and arm on his shoulder. Giving the man before him a nod, he turned before following his brother out of the door.

Knowing that was the guarded young mans way of saying thank you, he nodded back at Deans retreating back, before turning on his heel and giving himself a little shake. He smiled as he heard the sound of alarms inside the ward signalling their escape, and walked back to his rounds, whistling a tune and a spring in his step.

* * *

Dean and Sam made their way as inconspicuously as possible towards the Impala. Once they were in, Dean put the pedal to the metal, and the car roared out of the park onto the road heading out of town.

"Good guy that doctor huh" he asked guardedly, aware of how close Sam had been to shedding a tear. Both of the Winchesters had developed a bond with the man who had cared for them, and who spent extra time chatting whenever he had a free minute.

"Yeah, yeah he was" Sam said, the emotion gone from his voice now they had left the hospital behind.

Hearing his brothers voice back to normal was like a signal to Dean, who ginned.

"Dude you were totally crying back there"

"No I wasn't!" Sam said a little too quickly.

"You totally were, you had a chick flick moment with our doctor" Dean said with a snort of laughter.

"No way, there was something in my eye" Sam said, although exasperated by his brothers taunting, he was happy that things were back to normal.

"You do realise this just confirms to me the fact that you were supposed to be born a girl Samantha"…

The Impala growled as it ate up the tarmac, shooting towards an unknown destination, the next unknown hunt, the noise of the brothers banter escalating above the sound of its engine.

END

* * *

So this is the end :D

I spent most of last night sorting out the format of this story, for some reason fanfiction doesnt recognise dashes on here a anymore so alll my story dividers were gone, they have their own line things (see above lol) and they play up sometimes, im pretty sure theyve been moving about...

anyways so yeah, if theres one which appears to be in the wrong place feel free to let me know, i changed them all last night quite late.

this is the end then for now :D dont know what im going to do for my next fic, any suggestions are appreciated

all comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX


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